It's a Long Story
by sammarie228
Summary: When Quinn Burkhardt is rough housing with her brother in her aunt Rosalee's shop, the two accidentally knock some of her powders onto the floor. Can the gang manage to send Quinn back to good old 2032 or is she stuck in 2012? Rated T for safety. Contains Nick/Juliette, Monroe/Rosalee and Monroe/Nick mentions or mpreg don't like? then don't read
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: If I owned Grimm, Nick and Monroe would be having hot, steamy sex while Juliette left Portland and Rosalee was the supportive BFF. Since the show is not like this, I obviously own nothing.**

**Prologue****:**

"Whatchya reading there?"

Young Quinn Burhardt asked her brother, leaning over the counter to get a better view. Channing snatched his magazine away and scowled at his sister, snapping, "None of your business!" She held up her hands in defense and said, "Jeeze! I was just asking. God, don't get your panties in a twist." Channing frowned at her for a moment before sniffing at the air.

"Tell you what, I'll trade you this, for those beef sticks in your back pack," Channing offered. Quinn grabbed her pack, replying, "No way! This is my snack find your own." Her twin grinned and teasingly pulled on the other end of the bag. As Quinn pulled back just as hard, she leaned over and smacked Channing lightly on the arm. She wasn't expecting him to let go though, and suddenly found herself on the floor of their aunt's shop. Her bag came off the counter along with several jars of powders and spices that had been sitting by the register.

Seeing the jars topple over with her bag Quinn had just enough time to think, _uh oh!_, before blinking hard.

When she opened her eyes, her brother was gone. She was alone in the dimly lit shop. Shaking, Quinn managed to stand and dust herself off. Soon a wave of shock and fear set in and before she could think straight, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she ran out the door, into the streets of Portland. She looked around and her anxiety grew. There were dozens of Wesen on the streets, and she didn't recognize any of them.

She definitely wasn't in the Portland that she knew and loved.


	2. Is your mom in town or something?

**I don't think I mentioned this story takes place between 'The Island of Dreams' and 'The Thing With Feathers'. So at this current time, Nick is still with Juliette and still believes his mom is dead. Any other questions? Also, this is unbeta-ed so if you want to be a grammar nazi, shoot me a pm. I realize this does need to be more detailed, but my creative juices are currently struggling.**

Nick leaned back in his desk chair after finishing up some paperwork. It was a slow day for the Portland PD, which was unusual. He was almost glad to see Eddie Monroe on his cell phone caller ID. Some Grimm work would be a lot more interesting than sifting through games of computer Solitaire while waiting for the work day to end.

"Burkhardt," Nick answered.

"Nick," Monroe's voice came out, full of annoyance. "I've already gotten several calls, man. Did you forget to mention something?"  
"What are you talking about?" The silver eyed Grimm asked.

"I'm talking about a bunch of different Wesen spotting a Grimm today. A _female_ Grimm. What, is your mom in town or something, Nick?"

Nick frowned. A female Grimm running around Portland? His day suddenly got a lot less boring. As interesting as these Wesen reports were, he was confused. Nick thought he was the last of the Grimms.

"I can assure you Monroe, my mother died in a car accident a long time ago. I'll check these reports out though, see if there's any merit to them. If these sightings are credible, I'll start looking for the girl and tell her to stop freaking out your community."  
Monroe gave a sigh of relief. The idea of another Grimm had made him unconsciously tense up earlier. But Nick promising to at least look into the reports let Monroe relax. "Thanks Nick, I'll let everybody know that you're looking into it for them."  
"No problem, I'll just tell the Captain I'm leaving early." Nick hung up, not feeling the need to say 'goodbye'. He then stood up, stretched, and walked over to the Captain's office. Nick knocked lightly on the open door to get Renard's attention. The Captain looked up from his own light load of paper work and nodded at Nick.

"What can I do for you?" Captain Renard asked.  
"Ah, well, seeing as it's so slow today I wanted to know if it was ok that I left early," Nick said. The superior nodded and said, "I don't see why not. If anything comes up, Wu can just tag along with Hank. Take it easy, Nick."  
Smiling, Nick replied, "Will do. Thanks Captain."

The rest of Nick's day was spent chasing down the Wesen witnesses and getting their statements. At nearly eight that night, Nick went home. He greeted Juliette with a smile before shrugging his leather jacket off and tossing it on to the living room couch.  
"Something smells great, what is it?" He asked while leaning down to kiss the red head gently on the lips. She smiled warmly and replied, "Well, I made salad. I thought you would be home sooner, though. You're probably hungry for something more filling." Nick laughed it off and walked toward the kitchen.

"I didn't think I'd be back this late either. I was just interviewing people about this runaway girl that's been sighted. The time got away from me. Is this stew any good?"  
Juliette walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, saying, "We're discussing a missing girl and stew in the same conversation. Don't you find that odd?"

"What do you expect? I'm a cop," Nick replied and gave Juliette a cocky smile. Juliette nodded and asked, "Is she going to be ok, that missing girl?"

Nick nodded and said firmly, "Of course she will be, because I'm looking for her now. And I'll find her." He leaned down and kissed his girlfriend, who wrapped her arms around his neck in response. Neither of them noticed the light drizzle that had started outside.

Eddie Monroe woke with a start. He had been napping soundly on his couch until the knock at his front door startled him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groggily let his hand slide down his face. The knock came again and he stood up. Irritated he shouted out, "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" As he shuffled to the front door he muttered to himself about no one having any patience anymore.  
He opened the door to a damp, shivering brunette teen. He softened his attitude immediately and asked, "Yeah, hi. Are you ok?" Her wet hair stuck to her face in clumps and he noticed mud on her shoes. "Is your car stuck or something? I can go out and help you."

She looked on the verge of tears as she shook her head and asked, "Can I come in Daddy?"

And that's when Monroe blacked out.


	3. Take a bigger whiff, old man

Monroe woke up with a throbbing head ache. "Ow," he groaned pitifully. A small, shaky hand was thrust forward, offering him two Advil. He swallowed them whole before remembering that he lived alone and no one should be offering him medicine. He looked up to see a young teen staring intently at him.

"Uh, who are you?" Monroe asked. The girl frowned and said, "Before I answer that, you should try drinking some of this." She picked up a cup from the coffee table and handed it to Monroe. He took it gratefully and sipped at it.

"Mmm, this is really good," he commented. The girl smiled at him and said modestly, "Thanks. It's just chai."

"So the tea is chai, now who are you?"

She sighed heavily but before she could start the phone rang. The teen rolled her eyes and said, "You'd better answer that. He called twice while you were out. The messages he keeps leaving sound kind of urgent too."

"Out?" Monroe echoed, forgetting that he had passed out for a second.

"Yeah, you fainted. I did try to catch you, but you kind of missed my arms and hit the floor. Don't worry, it's only been four hours."  
Monroe took the phone from her, hoping the person on the other end could clear this issue up. Without even looking at his caller ID, Monroe hit talk and grunted out a, "Yeah?"

"Monroe? Hey, it's Nick. I've been trying to get a hold of you."

Monroe felt his body relax and he replied, "Oh, hey Nick. What's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to let you know I talked with some of the Wesen today. Most of their stories are consistent, so tomorrow I'll make up some story so Hank and I can start looking for her. This girl may not even know she's a Grimm, if that's what she really is."  
That's when Monroe remembered all those phone calls the other day. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks in the gut as he looked at this girl up and down. If his head ache wasn't so damn bad, he was sure he would have noticed that Nick-like scent on her earlier. This rain wasn't helping matters.

"Um, actually Nick, when you get the chance, you should come over," Monroe said, while trying not to sound freaked out in any way. He didn't want the girl to realize that he _knew._

The Blutbad could almost heard the detective's hesitation as Nick replied, "Uh, yeah, sure. I can come over tomorrow when my shift ends."

"Sounds great," Monroe said before he hung up. He pointed the phone in Quinn's direction and said, "You, Grimm, have a lot of explaining to do."

Quinn sighed as she flopped into the chair on the other side of Monroe's coffee table and covered herself with a rusty colored afghan that had been laying on the floor. "I don't even know where to start. Well, Dad, it starts like this-"  
"Ok, first off that's impossible. Try again."

"What do you mean?" Quinn looked her dad over, trying to figure out what she said wrong already, but his face wasn't giving anything away.

"I mean, you're a Grimm." Monroe said, "It's kind of faint since you've been running through the woods and got caught in the rain, but it's there. And since Nick is pretty much the last Grimm, I cannot be your father." A smug look crossed over Monroe's face but Quinn just rolled her eyes.

"Take a bigger whif, old man," the teen said, somewhat teasingly. "I'm part Blutbad."

She waited several minutes as Monroe sat there, furiously sniffing the air and sorting out all the scents he was inhaling. The smug smile was wiped from his face when he finally caught the underlying scent and the blood drained from his face as he looked at his daughter.

"But, how? I mean, Nick is a guy. At least, I'm pretty sure Nick is a guy. Please explain, and bring me something stronger than tea."  
Quinn got up and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. She came back to the living room and handed it to her pale father, who was very careful not to brush his fingers against her's as he took the bottle from her.

"You understand, I'm from the future. I don't know how much I can say without screwing something up."  
Monroe raised his hand to shush her and said, "Actually, you know what? I changed my mind. It's midnight and this has been a really, really, really long day. You're welcome to the couch or the guest bedroom, whichever floats your boat. Goodnight, um?"

"Oh! I'm Quinn," she said, suddenly realizing her dad didn't know her name. Monroe nodded and said, "G'night Quinn. Sleep tight." Monroe went about, locking the doors and turning off most of the lights before thudding up the stairs. Quinn didn't let herself cry until she heard the upstairs' bedroom door close.


	4. Trust me, you'll want the beer

**I realize FF dot net recognizes the spelling as 'R-o-s-a-l-i-e'. I like my spelling better and creative/artistic license is being evoked here so suck it. Once again I own nothing.**

The smell of turkey bacon frying woke Quinn up the next morning. She stretched and almost smiled, until her feet and hands smacked into the couch's arm rests. Then the memory of yesterday came flooding back. Her brother would not be in the kitchen, gorging himself on whatever dad was making. Her dad would not take her training after school, and he certainly wouldn't help her convince her other dad that they should all go out for dessert after dinner.

She wanted to cry, but her stomach told her to get over herself and walk into the kitchen. She decided to listen to her stomach since last night's dinner had been those beef sticks from her bag. She ran her hand through her messy brown hair and plodded into the kitchen.  
Monroe looked over when Quinn walked into the kitchen. "Figured you'd need some protein after all the running around you did yesterday, kiddo."

Quinn smiled and quietly thanked him, helping herself to the bacon and pancakes that Monroe had cooked up. After she seated herself at the breakfast nook, Monroe asked, "So, what year are you coming from? I never really talked to you much yesterday."  
"2032," Quinn responded.

Monroe let out a low whistle in response. "Damn," he said. "20 years." Quinn's slice of bacon hovered near her mouth. Curiosity was now winning over her hunger. Setting it back on her plate, she asked, "What year is it? I should have thought to grab a paper at some point, but I was kind of freaked out."

"It's 2012. We can watch the news after breakfast so you have a feel for what's going on," Monroe suggested. Quinn nodded silently and continued eating her breakfast. Monroe poured himself a fresh cup of coffee before excusing himself to the living room.

Quinn joined him, after rinsing her plate off in the sink. After a few minutes, Quinn grinned. "You know," she said. "Just recording one of these programs would really help on some history homework." Monroe snorted in response which cause Quinn to frown and stick her tongue out at him. She sat quietly for a bit longer, before deciding that she needed a shower. She mentioned this to her dad who nodded.

"Ok, well bathroom is upstairs. I don't think I have any sort of clothes for you though. I wonder if we can borrow some from Juliette, or would that be weird?" Before her dad could go off on some long tangent, Quinn said quickly, "I've actually got a change of clothes in my bag, thanks. I was s'posed to have a sleepover last night, but you can see how well that plan went." Monroe chuckled at the sarcasm and waved her off.

Once in the bathroom, she realized there was no girly-smelling shampoo. Quinn sighed, disappointed. She would just have to thoroughly rinse her hair with water and suffer the headache that comes with pulling at wet tangled hair. She hopped into the shower and let the hot water wash away some of the anxiety that was still present.

It was six o clock and Nick was on his way to Monroe's house. Monroe and his new partner in crime had spent most of the day watching various news channels, except for the few time Monroe got up to get them something to eat or drink. Monroe could have cried in joy at the knock on his door, it meant he was saved from becoming bored to death.

"Hey, Nick. Come on in, I'll grab you a beer," Monroe said as he opened the door for the detective.

Nick blinked and said, "Actually I'm good, but thanks." Monroe gave him a long look and said firmly, "Trust me, you'll want the beer." As Nick closed the door he heard Monroe shout, "Kid! You want one?"

A young voice yelled back, "I'm fourteen!"  
"So, a soda then?" Monroe called. He was answered with a yes. Nick walked into the living room and was slightly surprised to see a young teen girl curled up in one of Monroe's chairs. "Hey," he said, with a soft smile. "I'm Nick."  
The girl smiled back at him and replied, "I know. I'm Quinn, by the way. Have a seat, you're in for a shock."  
Monroe walked in and handed Nick the beer. He looked at Quinn an shook his head before handing her drink over. "I swear kid, you're going to fall into a diabetic coma with all the crap I let you have today." She just grinned back. Nick cleared his throat and the two turned to look at him. "Well?" The Grimm said, "Anyone want to tell me what's going on?"

"Well, I was in aunt Rose's shop," Quinn began. "And I grabbed my bag off of the counter. I guess there were spices up there that I didn't see. The fell on the floor. The ingredients must have mixed together when they fell to the floor and sent me here. Twenty years into the past. From what Da-Monroe was telling me, I scared some locals the other day. I'm sorry, I just-I just want to got home." Her voice cracked when she finished her explanation and apology.

"Well, then," Nick said. "Problem solved. Why don't you just call Rosalee, Monroe, and have her whip up the antidote of whatever happened here?"

Monroe scowled at Nick and said, "Don't you think I've already thought about that? She's out of town until Thursday. She needs to take care of her affairs before she can officially move to Portland. "

"Ok, what was the point of dragging me over here then? To show that you found the Grimm before I did?" Nick asked. He brushed at some strand of hair that were hanging over his eyes. Eyes that were the exact color as Quinn's. Monroe just shook his head and silently counted to three before saying, "Ok, she doesn't want to do this, but this is what the beer is for. Quinn, I know you don't want to mess up the future, but you're still here for a reason and he deserves to know."

Panicking, Quinn cried, "Then let him discover it in the future! Please don't make me tell him. It was weird enough having him tell me." Monroe gave her a look. It was one that, in the future, he claims took years to get right. Though here it was, perfect as it ever will be. The look that dads' give when their kid isn't quite in trouble but he wants them to know he's getting dangerously frustrated. Yeah, that look. You all know you have once gotten that look from your own dad.

Quinn took a deep breath before starting, keeping her eyes on her hands which were playing with the afghan. "Well, ok. Nick, obviously you've figure out that I'm a Grimm and I'm from the future." Nick nodded though Quinn didn't see it, she just kept talking. "So, I'm not, hmm. The girl that you're dating right now isn't my mom."

"How do you know about Juliette?" Monroe asked. slightly surprised, at the same time that Nick was asking, "Well, who is your mom, so I can keep an eye open?"

Quinn ignored Monroe's question, since Nick's was more important. "Well," she said, looking up from the afghan that she was slowly shredding. Her silver eyes meeting her father's. "In all technicalities, you are."


	5. Say that again

Nick was frozen for several moments. He unscrewed the top of his beer and took a long drink before he croaked, "Say that again."

Quinn's hands fidgeted some more. "The Grimms are meant to keep Wesen at bay from attacking humankind, right? Well, the Grimms can't just die off while there are still Wesen out there that may be considered dangerous. Just like Wesen have super human abilities and certain trait advantages, so does the Grimm.  
Males in the Grimm line have an ability to, erm, reproduce either by being impregnated themselves, or by impregnating either gender." Quinn let Nick and Monroe digest what she had just said.

Monroe was slightly glad at the news that he hadn't been the gestational carrier He allowed himself an inner laugh at the thought that Nick was his bitch. Then quickly forced himself to be serious. This was future business that they were all discussing which is some pretty heavy stuff.

"It's, it's not in the books though," Nick said quietly. Quinn couldn't help but roll her eyes and quote what he said numerous times in the future. "I'm real sure someone in the Grimm legacy would jot down, in a book filled with masculine and macho deeds, all about the night they knocked up some poor village boy." Monroe snorted and Nick took another drink. He ran his hands through his raven hair and let them fall to his knees. The Grimm slowly shook his head.

"I'm not sure what to ask next," Nick admitted.

Quin shrugged. "It's cool, I don't know what to say that won't totally screw with the future. So, it's kind of a level playing field?" She let out a light laugh, even though she knew it wasn't that funny.

"Is he human or Wesen?" Nick asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Quinn tucked a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear and tilted her head.

Nick shook his head and explained, "Your other father. Is he Wesen?"

Quinn thought hard, tilting her head to the other side, before responding. "He's someone that you love very, very much. In this time, you have a tight bromance going on, but you're both too stubborn and straight to realize what's in front of you." She was proud of her answer, feeling she was vague enough that she hadn't given anything away.

She watched Nick pale and wondered what she said wrong.

"God," he finally croaked out. "It's not, not Hank is it?"

"Oh my god Dad! No it's not, and if you ask me if it's Wu, I will get out of this chair, just to slap some sense in to you." Relieved Nick took a few more swigs of his drink.  
The teen shook her head at him and muttered, "Jeeze, do I look like a mixed race baby or something?"

Monroe frowned and said, 'Wait a minute here, both your dad's are being too straight and stubborn?" Quinn blinked before suddenly remembering that her dad and her aunt Rose had not started dating yet, and that female Blutbad had left Portland.

"Oh yeah, yo-I mean, he, my other dad dates aunt Rose for a bit before they realize it's just not meant to be." If Nick wasn't so distracted by the situation and having the 'you're going to be a mom' bomb thrown at him, he probably would have noticed Quinn's slip up.

"Well, when can Nick expect to know about this guy?" Monroe asked.

Quinn shook her head refusing to divulge to her dad when he would hook up with Nick. Noticing the look in Monroe's eyes though, she sighed and said, "Soon. That's all I feel comfortable saying."


	6. Don't you think you'll miss me?

Nick excused himself once he finished his beer. Monroe watched Nick drive off to the home that he shared with Juliette. He doubted she could provide much comfort since she had no idea about this side of Nick's life. He checked the voice mail on his cell phone and found several missed calls from Rosalee. Her messages were simply that she was trying to get the quickest flight back to help Monroe send Quinn back to her own time. As he turned off all the lights, he stopped by the living room. He smiled at the teen who was fast asleep. He threw an extra blanket on her, in case it got chilly, then shut off the lamps.

Rosalee knocked several times on Monroe's front door. When no one answered, she began hunting for a spare key, but before she found one, a girl opened the door, almost catching Rosalee's fore head. The elder looked up and gasped at the teen.

"Wow, you look a lot like Monroe. Except your eyes are different."

Quinn threw herself at Rosalee shouting, "Aunt Rose! Oh my goodness, I thought you weren't coming back for another few days."  
Rosalee smiled and shrugged, while hugging back. "I figured this was important enough for me to book the quickest flight back here. It's not every day you get a call about a friend's daughter stepping in from the future. Let me see those eyes again, they're just such a pretty silver." Quinn laughed and let Rosalee go. She brushed some of her wavy brown hair out of her face.  
"Let me go get Dad and we can all get to the shop, if that's cool?"

Rosalee sighed and said, "Sure thing. I'll meet you guys there though. I want to drop my luggage off at home before I head in."

Quinn nodded and said, "Alright, we'll see you in a bit." Rosalee nodded and waved as she walked away from Monroe's house.  
Quinn headed up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. She knocked on Monroe's bedroom door. Sticking her head inside she cried, "Hey, Dad! Rosalee is back in town. Get dressed, we've got to head over to the shop. Unless you want me stuck in the past forever." Monroe grunted, but got out of bed and headed to his dresser. Quinn smiled and closed the door. She waited in the living room for her dad to get dressed. He insisted on grabbing something to eat before they left. Quinn knew better than to argue, but she was running on excitement and adrenaline.

Monroe drove to Rosalee's shop in an awkward silence since he had spent several minutes arguing with Quinn. His future teenager tried to convince him that you no longer need to be fifteen to get a driver's license in the future. He stood firm on the fact that she was in the year 2012 and he would rather get into a car with Adalind Schade than allow Quinn to drive him anywhere. At which point she told him where he could shove the spoon he was using to eat his oatmeal with. Needless to say, it was probably one of the most uncomfortable car rides he had been on.

When they got to the shop, Quinn opened her door, before Monroe had even turned the car off, and skipped into the store. Monroe grabbed his daughter's forgotten back pack from the back seat and followed her inside.

He noticed the girls were already staring intensely at an opened book.  
Rosalee looked up and smiled. "Hey Monroe!" she said. "Help yourself to a book. Although, we may have already found what we're looking for."

"Nope," Quinn said. "It says there's a rusty after taste. But, all I felt when I came here was panic or anxiety, I guess." Monroe set Quinn's bag on the floor and walked over to the book shelf, pulling down a thin, red book.

"Ok, just to clarify," Rosalee said. "What was on the counter?" Quinn rolled her eyes in frustration and cried, "I don't know! I didn't read the labels. They were just whatever you have on the counter twenty years from now."

Monroe frowned and asked, "Hey, Rosalee, do you carry juniper berries in the shop?" Rosalee shrugged and replied, "Of course, why?" Monroe didn't respond, instead he took the book and began going through the various spices. After grabbing several seperate jars, he set them down on the counter and looked over at Quinn.

"Ok, kid. Does this look familiar?" He asked while pointing at the jars. Quinn moved over and studied the arrangement. "Yeah," she replied, slowly. "Except, this one was more, over here." She said, picking up a small dark jar and setting it down on the far left. Monroe nodded, "Um in der Zeit reisen. German for, to travel in time. There are several mixtures listed here. Most of them send you to the past, but they all have, ah, opposites if you will, listed on the next page. We'll just get what you need for this particular opposite, and you can go home."

Rosalee glanced through the page and set about gathering the ingredients. "It's so weird though," she mused while picking up some Schleppangel Haar. "I wonder why I even had those set out together on the counter. I must have some motive or reason to want to jump back."

Quinn shrugged and said, "Whatever your reasoning, you haven't shared it with me. I'm sure if you told me what was on the counter Channing and I wouldn't have been so careless."

Monroe tilted his head and looked over at Quinn. "Channing, huh? Who's that?" Quinn's eyes grew wide as she realized her flub, again. She turned red and mumbled, "Um, ah, he's no one. Don't worry Dad. Just focus on sending your daughter back to the future." Rosalee shook her head at the two and set the ingredients down on the counter. She moved the ones Monroe had placed there, and put those back in the right places.

"Alright, so we just dump them on your head or what?" Monroe asked.

Rosalee shook her head. "You've got to kind of, inhale it. Like when you breathe in some dust," she explained.

"Why can't I just do what I did the first time around and knock them over with my bag?" Quinn suggested. Rosalee shrugged and said, "It doesn't hurt to try it I guess, since it's what brought you here." Quinn took her bag, and set it on the counter top. Before she dragged the bag across though, she walked over and gave Monroe a bear hug. The Blutbad stood awkwardly, not exactly sure of what to do. He looked to Rosalee but she just shrugged her shoulders at him.

"What was that for?" He asked when Quinn stepped away.

"Well, you won't see me again for twenty years. Don't you think you'll miss me?" Quinn said quietly. Monroe smiled and wrapped his teen in another hug for several moments before letting her go. It was almost a tear jerker kind of moment. She took a deep breath as she walked over to the counter. Giving the adults a final wave, she grabbed a hold of her bag.  
Rosalee and Monroe watched as Quinn yanked her bag forward, sending herself off balance, and falling to the floor along with the ingredients. Within seconds, there was only a powdery mess on the floor where Quinn had been. Monroe felt a knot in his gut. He had only known his daughter for a few days, but Quinn was right. He missed her already.

**Thanks for the reviews guys! And don't worry, I have another six or so chapters squirreled away. **


	7. How could you?

Monroe opens the door to a raven haired man. The Blutbad tilts his head to the side and says, "Uh, hey Nick. New case or something?" Nick raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Ah, no. I was just looking for Quinn. I was hoping to get more insight on what's going on, now that I'm both sober and less confused," he replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry man, I forgot to call and tell you," Monroe exclaimed, instantly feeling the guilt wash over him. Nick's face showed his worry as he asked,"Is everything alright?"

Monroe nodded and moved out of the way, letting Nick step into the house. The Grimm shut the door behind him and turned his attention back to Monroe, who was clearly stalling. He kept his eyes on him, waiting for an explanation of some sort.  
Monroe sighed and finally said, "Ok, well Rosalee is back early." Nick interrupted him, a huge smile on the Grimm's face as he cried, "That's great! Go get Quinn and let's head to the shop. You haven't gone and gotten yourself attached to her, have you?"

Grimacing, Monroe replied, "No, that's the thing Nick. Quinn and I went to the store this morning. We found the right antidote. She's already been sent home." Monroe realized he'd done something wrong when he looked over at Nick.  
Nick felt like someone had just thrown a boulder at his stomach. The smile had dropped from his face and a look of hurt crossed it instead. "How, could you? How could you just send my daughter off without even giving me so much as a phone call?"

"Look, Nick." Monroe tried to reason. "There were thr-two people in this situation. Quinn was really homesick. I just figured, the sooner she could get home, the better, you know?"

"But I didn't get to say goodbye," Nick said quietly. Then, Nick blinked and frowned. He looked over at Monroe and asked, "Were you about to say three people?"

Monroe laughed the comment off, saying "You're always dragging me into your random cases now, Nick. I almost included myself in this situation as well."

"But," Nick said. "You were a part of this as well." Monroe froze for a moment, not sure of what to think. Nick continue, "I mean, Quinn did run to you when she got here." Nick chuckled a little before voicing his next thought out loud.  
"Funny, huh? I drag you into my problems, and she dragged you into her's. like father, like daughter." Monroe gave a dry laugh, covering up his relief. He had seriously thought Nick had figured out who Quinn's other father was already. Monroe didn't mind that he was going to be with Nick in the future, but he needed to sort these thoughts out for himself.

"So, I guess I'll see you next week? Juliette and I are going on a sort of mini vacation," Nick said.  
Monroe nodded, saying, "I'll probably be helping Rosalee set up shop. If you need anything try the shop's phone first." Nick nodded, and headed out the door after Monroe opened it for him.

**I had some ideas written down, but my stupid cat ate them before I had a chance to type them up. Don't worry, I still know where I'm going with this. I want to thank LittleBounce, esinger, D Squirrel, , Guest and grimmlvr99 for the reviews. They really made me smile. I'd also like to thank everyone who is reading/following/favoriting. Thanks for the support guys!**


	8. She's my mother

**Just little snippets from the show that I thought I'd add.**

Monroe was worriedly pacing in Adalind's bedroom where he and Rosalee were keeping an eye on Nick's partner, Hank. Rosalee was sitting near the bed, looking slightly stressed as she tried to reassure Monroe, "He had to do this alone."

He scratched at his chin and turned back toward Rosalee. "I mean, how do we know when it's over?" he asked her. She nodded toward Hank, replying, "If Hank wakes up, then she's dead."

"And if Hank doesn't wake up?"

Rosalee didn't say anything, she didn't need to. A mixture of emotions on her face when she looked up at Monroe. His eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. He started pacing again, and cried, "I should have gone with him."  
There was nothing but worry and anxiety in him as he waited. Relief flooded through his body when Hank woke up. It had to mean Nick was alright, Monroe wouldn't allow himself to think anything else might have happened.

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While Nick was thinking on their cover story for Juliette, all Monroe could think about was how twenty years from now Nick would be with him instead of Juliette. These thoughts were incredibly distracting and made it awkward for him to sit at the same table with Juliette.

It was when she began to practically interrogate the two over the first case they had worked, that Monroe had to practically beg for her to go get a copy of the dinner recipe. He and Nick simply didn't seem to be on the same wavelength about how Monroe had helped in finding the little girl. Which was hugely frustrating for Monroe.

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He couldn't believe there was a strange woman attacking him and Rosalee in Nick's house. It kind of pissed him off and he immediately voged. He could sense Rosalee had also done so. If Nick had not gotten in the middle of the three of them, Monroe would have definitely dropped a can of whoop ass on this woman. Dressed head to toe in black as though she had just hopped out of the pages of a random comic book. He could hear Nick trying to defuse the situation, but his anger was distracting him from really listening.

"Who the hell is this bitch?" The Blutbad yelled. Nick gave him a defeated look. Nick really was just done for the week. Too much had happened. Juliette had fallen into a coma, he'd been attacked in his own home, and now this.

"She's my mother," Nick replied. Monroe's eyes grew and he looked back and forth between the two Grimms for a second before asking in a stage whisper, "Dude, is she supposed to be, not so alive?"


	9. G' ist fur Grimm

Monroe was sitting in his living room enjoying a glass of wine and watching the news, when the symbol appeared on camera. He immediately reached for his phone. He knew Nick didn't know anything about this, and he needed to tell him as soon as possible.

Nick brought Hank along to talk to Monroe, which he didn't mind. It was an investigation, and Hank now knew about Wesen. hank quickly opened the file he had brought with them and pulled out the photograph. "Do you know about this symbol?"

"Heck, yeah." The Blutbad replied, "I grew up having nightmares over that thing."  
The two detectives continued questioning Monroe as they followed him through the house. "Well, what does it mean?" Nick asked.

"It's an old Germanic 'G', or 'geh' in the old, old country," Monroe explained. Hank looked at the photo again, studying it a bit more. "Well, what's it mean?"

Monroe stopped when he reached his study and pointed at Nick. "Him!" he cried. Nick raised an eyebrow and stopped. "Me?" he asked.

"Yeah," Monroe replied, as if it were obvious. "'G' ist fur Grimm. It's how we learned the alphabet. Obviously not you, since you're, you know." Monroe sighed, and grabbed the book he wanted and lead the detectives toward his dining room.

"Look," he said. "When I was a kid my parents and grand parents and they would tell us these stories. Cautionary tales, if you will, and they were full of warnings about the worst of the worst. Those Grimms, with like, no compassion. They killed anything, and they were known as the Endezeichen-Grimms."

He could see Nick getting a little green around the gills, but this was important information that the detective needed to know. Hank merely looked curious as Monroe told them what he knew.

"Some of those tales are in this book," Monroe began flipping pages, looking for the particular story. Nick managed a grin and teased, "What's that, a Wesen fairy tale book?" Monroe rolled his eyes and continued looking through the book.

"Oh, look," He said, pointing at the image in the thin book. "This is their symbol, it's what the bastards burned into everyone they killed and on to every house that had any Wesen in it. Pretty much every Wesen kid grew up hearing about the hour of death." Noticing the look on Nick's face, Monroe scoffed and asked, "What, you've never heard of it?"

Nick shook his head, so Monroe continued, "You're not going to like this. But sometime after the fourth crusade, there were these death squads of Grimms. And they just, branded all their kills with this symbol."

Nick crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "So you're telling me, that there's another Grimm in Portland?" Monroe sighed and said, "I guess, since you're not doing this." He knew what the Grimm was silently mulling over. But Monroe refused to believe that Quinn had come back from the future, just to kill off the Wesen population. It had to be some oogey guy doing this.

He downed the rest of his wine, and walked into the kitchen to grab the bottle. He could feel Nick following him, so he wasn't surprised when he turned around to head back to the dining room, to be face to face with Nick.  
"We're going to catch this guy, before anything else happens. I promise."

Monroe nodded and felt Nick grab the bottle. Nick gently pulled it away from Monroe and set it on the counter. "Hang in there," he said.

"Just don't get killed in the process," Monroe sighed.

Once Nick and Hank left, Monroe eyed up the bottle again. It would calm his nerves a bit. But, he had to have faith in Nick. Just in case though, the Blutbad triple checked that his doors were locked, and took a steak knife up to bed.


	10. You're already insane, but go on

Monroe wasn't at all surprised to see Nick on his porch with a suitcase in hand. Monroe gave the dark haired maled a sympathetic look and said, "I've got the spare room made up." He stepped aside so Nick could walk in. Nick silently did so.

Monroe really felt for the guy. Not only did Juliette get selective amnesia, but then she goes and cheats on Nick with another guy. Not that she purposely got amnesia, it just really sucked for Nick. Monroe sighed as he watched Nick climb the stairs, looking like something that cat dragged in.  
Not that Monroe would ever allow a cat in his home.

He watched as Nick admired some of the artwork that was displayed in Monroe's guest room. "It's a little old school," the Blutbad admitted. Nick turned toward Monroe who continued, "But, it's your's for as long as you need it."

"Thanks," Nick said gratefully. He set his bag down on a trunk at the foot of his full sized bed. He looked around the room and Monroe asked, "Are you alright?"

Nick nodded, exhaling a large sigh. "Yeah, it is what it is." Monroe agreed, and acting on a random instinct and a little bit of guilt, said, "I need to tell you something, well show you something actually. Come on, it's something I recorded." Nick followed Monroe down to the living room.

Monroe switched his DVR on and explained, "I recorded this only because I recognized him, and I thought you should know for yourself."

"Know what?" Nick asked exhausted. He just wanted to go to bed. Monroe kept himself between Nick and the television as he qued up the recording. "Know what the guy looked like. The one who came into the shop with Juliette." He moved away from the screen and Nick saw Renard at the press conference. It was like the final twist in the knife in his back. Monroe ran to get Nick a glass of water but when he returned Nick shook his head and asked for something stronger.

Monroe returned again, this time with a beer for Nick and himself. Nick uncapped it and Monroe waited quietly. After Nick drank a good portion, Monroe said, "So, should we talk about this?"

"Talk about what Monroe?" Nick snapped. "In the past six months, my daughter came here from the future to reveal that I'm apparently gay for one of my friends, my mother came back from the dead and the Royals keep trying to have me killed. I'm just so exhausted, I'm not even sure how I'm functioning anymore."

Monroe nodded, he didn't need to be reminded, he had been with Nick through most of this. He took a swig of his own beer and then added, "On top of that you've joined the bachelor life with the rest of us. Maybe you'll feel more rested now that you're in a bed again instead of your couch."

Nick did a double take and asked, "Wait, you and Rosalee aren't together anymore?" Monroe shrugged and replied, "I guess we were just feeling each other out. We agreed we're better at being friends."

Nick sat there, digesting this new information. Something was nagging at his brain, he just didn't know what it was. He downed the rest of his drink, and said, "I'm sorry Monroe, about you and Rosalee. I think I'm going to go to bed, it's been a long week. Thanks for letting me stay here." Nick stood up and Monroe nodded, "Sure, buddy. It's no problem. Have a good night." Nick headed up the stairs to the small third floor. Monroe tossed the bottles into the recycling before locking the front door and heading up to his own room.

Monroe soon realized why he didn't have many guests over at the house. While he didn't consider himself to be a light sleeper, he could hear Nick tossing and turning on the third floor. Monroe rolled on to his side and stuffed one of his pillows over his exposed ear, trying to muffle the noise.

Around two in the morning Nick came down to the second floor and knocked on Monroe's bedroom door. Annoyed, the Blutbad got up and opened it. A very tired Nick, pushed past him and took a seat on Monroe's bed. Monroe sighed and rolled his eyes, "Of course! Come one in, I insist." He said sarcastically.

Nick looked up and said, "Look we need to talk." Monroe rubbed his eyes and replied, "Sure, what's on your mind?"  
Nick rubbed his hands together and rested them on his knees. "Look, there's just this thought, that keeps running through my mind. Back from when, Quinn was here. Something that she said, and I feel I need to say it out loud or just bounce it off of you to see if I'm just going insane."

"You're already insane," Monroe said. "But, go on."

Nick smiled at the comment and started picking at his fingernails. "Alright, well Quinn said that, you know, her other dad went out with Rosalee at one point." At that point Nick looked up to meet Monroe's stare.

Monroe was still standing by his open bedroom door, unsure of what to do or say. He cleared his throat harshly before saying, "Well, that's an, erm, interesting coincidence. Guess you should be watching Rosalee's next couple of boyfriends or something?"

Nick shook his head, "Monroe, Quinn's part Blutbad."

"What! How'd you even notice that?" squeaked Monroe. He had figured Nick had been so shocked and distracted during Quinn's arrival, that he wouldn't even notice her other side. Turns out he was very wrong. There was a reason Nick made it to detective.  
"I'm a Grimm, Eddie, in case you forgot," Nick pointed out. A shy smile graced the Grimm's face as he looked at Monroe waiting for his reaction.  
In his tired state, Monroe took a moment to process what Nick had said. "Did you just call me Eddie?"

"It's your name," Nick said. Monroe shook his head and said, "I like it better when you call me Monroe." Nick grinned for a moment. Then the Grimm rubbed his tired eyes and let himself flop backwards on to the mattress. "I know the guest room is all made up, but I don't know if I can make it up the stairs."

Monroe rolled his eyes when Nick patted the empty spot next to him. The Blutbad made his way over to his bed and lay down, draping the comforter over the both of them before falling asleep.

"So," Monroe heard from the other side of the bed. "Does that mean we're trying this out?" Monroe smiled and replied, "Shut up and go to sleep, Nick."

**My sister is in the hospital and may end up going into ICU because her baby is coming way too soon. Please keep them both in your thoughts because I was really planning on turning my niece into a Grimm fan.**


	11. I ought to kill you right there

Nick was surprised at how easy his relationship with Monroe seemed to be. That is, until Monroe started getting sick.

After finishing up some paper work, he swung by Rosalee's shop for some answers. The little bell above the door jingled merrily to let Rosalee know someone had entered the store. She looked up from the book she was going through and smiled. "Hey, Nick! What's up?"

"Well, I have some questions, and I'm wondering if you can help," Nick said.  
The shop keeper closed her book and replied, "Shoot."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, feeling slightly awkward. "Well, you know I'm in Monroe's spare bedroom now, right?" She nodded, and told him to continue.

"I've kind of been noticing, he's been kind of sick lately. I was wondering if it was Wesen related, at all. Sometimes in the mornings, he'll sleep in or throw up and just not do pilates for that day." Rosalee's eyes widened. She knew how important Monroe's morning pilates routine was, and for him to skip it meant something had to be seriously wrong.

"Any other symptoms? Rashes, sweating, maybe glazed eyes?" She asked, turning to the bookshelves and reading the spines. Nick shook his head, and responded, "No, he just says he's nauseous all the time. And he's got some odd sleep patterns. Otherwise he's normal."

Nick shivered and Rosalee placed a hand on his shoulder. Concerned she asked, "Nick, are you alright?" He laughed and nodded. "Sorry," he said. "I was just thinking, almost a year ago it was Monroe's kid who was here." Rosalee grinned and turned back to her work. Nick said goodbye and headed out the door.

The next day he got a call at work, from Rosalee. He answered the phone casually so his partner wouldn't get suspicious. When Rosalee asked for him to come to the store the second he had a chance, he became slightly worried. He promised to meet her again once he was done with work.

The door chimed when Nick entered and Monroe turned to glare at the Grimm. "I ought to kill you right there," Monroe growled. Nick's eyes grew wide and he glanced over to Rosalee who was sitting behind the counter, looking way to cheerful.

"Why? What did I do?" Nick managed to say with a stutter.

"The one time I let you top, the one time I cave in to you," Monroe said. "You freaking knock me up."


	12. So we're going to have more than one?

**Another slightly short chapter. I did try to make it longer. Maybe I will just update again this week to make it up to you guys.**

"Quinn is so grounded when we see her," Monroe said as he buckled himself into the passenger seat of Nick's car. The brunette sighed and shoved his head into his hands.  
Nick grinned slightly at Monroe's comment and asked, "How do you figure?"

Monroe's hands roughly went through his hair and he sighed deeply. "Look, I did the math once Rosalee told me her suspicions. Quinn was no older than fifteen, right? That means that she's not born until either 2017, or later."

Nick paled visibly, realizing then what Monroe was saying. He swallowed and said, "So, we're going to have more than one?"  
"Seems like it," Monroe replied. Shaking his head he said, "You'd think the kid could have warned us that she had siblings."

Nick nodded in agreement. "What are you thinking, no phone privileges for a month? Maybe we take away the TV for a week?" he asked.  
Monroe scoffed and shook his head. "For time jumping and then practically giving us false information?" He cried, "No, that's too light a punishment. When I was a kid, if I got myself into trouble, my parents would leave me in the woods for a weeks to fend for myself."

Nick blinked and cleared his throat. Not able to tell if Monroe was serious, the detective said, "Ah, that's maybe too harsh, don't you think?"  
Monroe shifted in his seat and said, "Well, we have a few years yet to decide." Nick agreed silently, then turned the key to start the car. The head lights shone brightly in the night on their drive home. They sat quietly with the radio on. When Nick pulled into the driveway, he noticed Monroe had broken into a wide grin. He cleared his throat and asked, "What's up?"

Monroe shook his head and said, "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what your mother will say the next time she's in town." Nick looked down into his lap with wide eyes. His mother still had huge prejudices against the Wesen community. What would Kelly Burkhardt say about this? Nick was already imagining several scenarios in his head, none of them good.  
He then had a thought and looked over at the Blutbad next to him. "Hey," Nick said. "What are your parents going to think of you fraternizing with me?"

Monroe shrugged and said, "Good question. Since they're not reformed, I don't really keep contact with them. I can imagine they would not be to pleased though." Nick noticed that Monroe had unconsciously tensed at the mention of his parents, so he decided not to press the topic any further. He and Monroe got out of the car and headed into the house. Monroe sighed, looking around his living room.

"This sucks," he said. "If we have more than one kid, that means we have to move out. I really like this place too."

Nick watched Monroe walk up the stairs. He looked around Monroe's well lived in home. The detective did some calculations in his head and then checked hi work on paper. He decided to bring up the idea with Monroe tomorrow. He was thinking though, that they wouldn't have to move. Perhaps he and Monroe could just add a room on to the house. With the help of a construction crew of course.


End file.
